


Tougher Than the Rest

by DTS



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-28
Updated: 2013-06-11
Packaged: 2017-12-13 07:07:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 13,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/821439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DTS/pseuds/DTS
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Dean are checking out a mysterious death on the Jersey Shore. After a long day of research, all Dean wants to do is put up his feet and relax with the TV. The two men waiting in their motel room put an end to that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. My Lucky Day

**Author's Note:**

> This is a sequel two my first SPN fic In Spite of All the Danger The setting is the Jersey Shore, where I lived for 9 years (1978-1987). My sister still lives there and helped me out in a few spots. The wonderful msninacat heard my plea for a beta and jumped right in. Thanks a bunch!

Dean tried to get comfortable in the white wicker chair. Even though it was approaching October, it was still warm enough to sit on a porch overlooking the Atlantic. He would have preferred to be looking over the Jersey beach during the height of summer when all the hot babes were enjoying the sun. But, no, they had to be here listening to a 70 year old woman tell them about how she found her husband bleeding to death in their third floor condo. The autopsy photos showed a row of deep but small holes that put Dean in mind of a shark bite.

He brought his attention back to the interview.

“So you didn’t see or hear anything suspicious in the days leading up to the incident?”

Dean watched as Sam spoke to the widow. It was almost as if nothing had happened. Well, for his brother, the last year was gone. Sam’s memories were buried behind a wall in his mind. He still wasn’t sure what Death wanted him to do. It had to be something major since he had retrieved Sam’s soul from Lucifer’s cage even though Dean had reneged on their deal. Yes, he had to watch what he said, but he would do whatever it took to keep this Sammy. Nobody could use those puppy-dog eyes like him.

“Isn’t that right, Agent Starkey?”

“Hmm? Sorry, just thinking of our next move.”

“I was just telling Mrs. Godwin that we’d get back to her after making a few phone calls and checking a few sources.”

“Yes, of course. We will get to the bottom of this for you, don’t worry.”

“Do you have someone..?”

“I’ll be staying with my sister for a few days.”

“That’s perfect,” Dean said. “It’s good that you can get away from here and be with someone,” he added at Sam’s glare.

“Here’s my number if you think of anything else.” Sam handed the Widow Godwin a piece of paper with his current cell number scribbled on it.

“Thank you, Agent Harrison. I appreciate you taking the extra time to discover what really happened to my husband.”

“We don’t like leaving things unanswered,” Dean said before heading down the front walk to the Impala.

Sam said goodbye one more time before following. The moment he shut the passenger side door he turned. “What’s wrong with you? You’re always the one who wants to hunt something down.”

“Under normal circumstances, yeah, but this is taking us away from the search for Eve and Purgatory.”

“And because of that, others should suffer?”

“Sam.”

“’Hunting things, saving people, the family business,’ remember that? Who knows, we may learn something from this to help us with Eve.”

“Fine.” Dean knew Sam was right. They couldn’t let other creatures go ‘unattended’ if they had the ability to stop them. “We’ll check out the police and the library. I want to make this quick. Sea air is not good for my baby.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Dean could see Sam’s smug face.

~*~*~*~*~*~

An ocean and 200 years away, Col. Alan Kelly locked the museum-quality display case that housed his personal collection. Going by the calendar, they would be considered antiques or artifacts. However, most of them weren’t more than a few years old. One of the perks of the job. His newest acquisition was a favorite. A personally autographed unpublished manuscript by Carver Edlund detailing the time he had met the Winchester brothers in the 21st century when trying to save his brother.

He looked over at that same brother sitting on the couch with his feet up on the coffee table, looking to all the world like the cat that swallowed the proverbial canary. He’d always been like that after winning an argument – or at least when he thought he had.

“You’re not going to admit you were wrong, are you?”

“No, because I’m not and you know it.”

“And how would I know that?”

“Because you’re standing here. If I hadn’t saved your arse, there’d be a national day of mourning.”

Alan knew that was true – not the day of mourning thing - but he didn’t want to give in. “Oh, like I haven’t saved your butt? I helped bring you back from Death’s door.”

“Fine, I’ll give you that one, but…” Ryan stopped and looked at a point over Alan’s shoulder.

Alan turned and saw a pale man with dark tousled hair, crooked tie, and a disheveled trench coat. “Castiel?”

“Alan Kelly.”

Ryan nearly tripped over his own feet as he got up and headed towards them. “Castiel? _The_ Castiel?”

“Ryan Kelly, it is good to see you are well.”

“Wow, you know my name! This is amazing!” He pumped the angel’s hand.

Castiel removed his hand from Ryan’s grip. “You’re needed.” He raised his hands to their foreheads.

“Whoa!” Alan took a step back.

“Do you not want to help the Winchesters?” Castiel seemed confused at the refusal.

“Of course I want to help them but I want more information. You can’t just drop us into a situation without telling us what’s going on.”

“Especially when it comes to the Winchesters,” added Ryan. “One wrong word could change everything.”

“It has been taken care of.” Castiel reached out too quickly for the brothers to dodge.


	2. Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We get the lowdown on the hunt.

2\. Night

Dean pulled into the parking space right in front of their motel room. Research always drained him. All he wanted to do was put his feet up, find something mindless on TV, and then enjoy his greasy burger and fries they picked up at a diner. He grabbed the bag of food and let Sam deal with the paperwork.

He headed for the room and saw a flickering light through the window. He set the food down and reached for his gun. “Sam,” he whispered with a nod towards the window.

“Cas?” Sam whispered back as he brought out his gun.

“He wouldn’t turn on the TV.”

On a silent count of three, Sam opened the door and Dean moved in, his gun held out in front of him. He put the guy sitting on the bed around 6’, 170 lbs, with short brown hair. Not a demon because the room was salted and warded. So that left angel but how did he know how to find them?

The man didn’t look away from the TV as he called out, “You win the bet!”

“Who the hell are you and what are you doing in our room?” Dean demanded.

The door to the bathroom opened and out stepped another man who smiled. “Hey, guys. I see you met my brother.”

“Alan?” Sam lowered his gun. “What are you doing here?”

“Really not sure,” Alan replied as he shook Sam’s hand. “Castiel sent us.”

“Cas is behind this?” Dean put his gun away. “What the hell does he want?”

“If he hasn’t told you, why would he tell us?” Alan’s brother had switched off the TV and was now sitting on the edge of the bed.

Alan looked at his brother who stared back at him. Given what he remembered about Alan’s “abilities”, Dean wouldn’t put it past the twins to be having some telepathic discussion.

“Ignore Ryan,” Alan told them. “He lacks tact and self-censorship.”

“I know the feeling,” Sam said with a smile.

“Hey!”

“I think speaking my mind is a good quality,” protested Ryan. “It always came in handy before.”

“Yeah, when you were an arms dealer.”

Dean looked at Ryan. “You were an arms dealer?”

“Among other things.”

“Cool.” He needed to get to know this guy better.

“So, what’s going on? Where do we stand so Ryan and I don’t spill anything?”

“Sam’s back from Hell and has his soul but can’t remember anything from last year or he’ll be a vegetable,” Dean stated.

“On the monster front, Crowley’s dead. Cas burned his bones,” Sam added. “Now we have Eve, the mother of all monsters topside creating havoc.”

“That seems to sum everything up nicely but I don’t see why Castiel thinks you need us now. What hunt are you working on?”

Sam answered. “A 71 year old man bled to death from what looks like a shark bite.”

“Not too surprising, living in a beach town,” commented Ryan.

“He was in his third floor condo at the time.”

“Landshark?”

Dean gave a crooked grin, having said the same thing. Sam didn’t even crack a smile.

“So, the ghost has a pet ghost shark,” said Alan. “Why is it attacking septuagenarians?”

“That we don’t know but we do have a likely suspect for the spirit,” Dean said as he went outside to get the food.

“Well, fill us in.” Ryan made himself comfortable and eyed the bag.

“There isn’t enough for four,” he said in something just short of a whine.

“Dean, we can always get some more later,” Sam said.

“Fine, but the pie is mine.” He didn’t miss the look Ryan gave Alan. “What?”

“It’s just the pie thing.” Ryan sounded almost giddy.

“What pie thing?”

“You always have pie,” Ryan said as he popped some fries into his mouth.

“I don’t always.”

“Yes you do,” his brother sided against him. “Whenever you can.”

Dean’s only answer was a defiant bite of his apple pie. It certainly lived up to the hype the guy at the bakery gave it. He would have to add The Macaroon Shop to his list of the best pies.

Alan looked to Sam. 

“Right. The original Essex and Sussex Hotel was built in 1914 and attracted high society, royalty and a couple presidents. It closed in 1985 and was just left there until 2002 when it reopened as condos for ‘active adults’.”

Sam actually used air quotes.

“They have various sizes from studios to penthouses ranging from $200,000 to $1 million.”

“And what’s this to do with the spirit?” questioned Alan.

“Just some background info.” Dean gave him a “How Dare You Interrupt” look.

“Sorry.” Alan took a bite of his hamburger half. 

“Okay, so it’s July 1, 1916, and it’s majorly hot. Down the coast, a man was attacked and killed by a shark.” Dean threw back some coffee. He hadn’t expected story time. “Nobody thought anything of it, thought it was isolated.”

Sam took over. “Five days later, Charles Bruder, a 27 year old from Switzerland went swimming right off the beach in front of the hotel. He was 130 yards from shore when he was attacked. Rescuers found him ‘unusually light’ when they pulled him into the boat. The lower half of his body was gone. His last words were ‘A shark got me’. He died before they reached the shore.”

“He was a bellboy for the hotel,” Dean added.

“So, he’s angry at the hotel for not taking proper precautions,” reasoned Ryan.

“Reports say that he went beyond the demarcation line,” said Sam. “Besides, both guests and employees collected money to send to his mother back in Switzerland.”

“Okay, that’s not a motive. Maybe he liked the hotel the way it was. Or maybe they stirred things up,” Ryan tried again.

“So he gets them ten years later?” Dean argued.

“There were reported sightings through the years. There was a local high school that had their senior class photo taken on the front steps.” Sam pulled up the picture and pointed. “See, the upper window on the left?”

Alan and Ryan leaned forward to peer at the picture. There was a misty human-shaped figure standing at the window.

“So what would make a formerly benign ghost attack?”

“Ryan might be right. Something had to have been uncovered that Charles doesn’t want found.” Dean polished off his coffee.

“Or he’s trying to prevent something from being uncovered. Dean, we gotta get in there and look around but the FBI can only get us so far.”

Dean smiled. “We need to have someone go in and look to buy a place.”

“What? You want Bobby? It’ll take too long for him to get here.”

“Sammy, Alan could bring Bobby here yesterday. No, _they_ go in.”

“Dude, in case you hadn’t noticed, they don’t meet the age requirement.”

“Well, you’re already treating us like we aren’t here, so we’re halfway there,” commented Ryan.

“Age won’t be a problem,” Alan said.

The Winchesters turned at his voice and saw a man that looked to be 70. On closer inspection, they could see Alan.

“Whoa!” Dean got up and peered at Alan. “That is…freaky.”

“It’s a simple projection.” Alan pressed a button on the machine on his wrist and the image flickered away.

“Okay, that’s handled, but what about paying? This is way too big for our credit cards.” Sam was one for the practical questions.

“You forget,” Ryan said, wagging his thumb between Alan and himself, “we’re rich.”

Dean scoffed. “How the hell can you be rich now?”

“C’mon,” said Alan. “I know you looked me up online last time.”

“The Competition.” Sam grinned as he looked at Dean. “You remember that band they were in during the 60s.” He looked back at the brothers. “You must’ve signed a great royalties deal.”

“Along with some wise investing,” added Ryan. “People like to reminisce, wanting to hear about the music scene then, any stories about the Beatles or the Stones. We get offers for interviews all the time.”

“So that is what you would look like now if you really lived then?” Dean questioned.

“Yeah,” said Alan. “It comes in handy. As for paying, I doubt it’ll even get that far. We take the tour, say we’ll think on it, and that’s that. Easy.”

Dean groaned. “You had to say it, didn’t you?”


	3. Brilliant Disguise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Kellys get a tour of the Essex and Sussex.

Alan and Ryan walked up the wide steps to the grand portico. They each slowed their gait to one appropriate for their outward age. They had practiced sounding older as well. The plan was that they would look at a condo and get a tour of the building and hopefully find what sparked the attack.

They were greeted at the door by a bubbly woman in a navy power suit and designer shoes. “Welcome to the Essex and Sussex! I’m Karen. How may I help you?”

“My name is Alan Kelly and this is my brother Ryan. We’d like to look at a condo.”

The woman’s eyes widened in recognition. “Gentlemen, it’s a pleasure! It’s not often with get rock legends such as yourselves. Please come this way.” Karen led them further into the open, bright lobby, pausing at the table under a magnificent chandelier. Alan could easily see the room in its heyday. “What made you choose the Essex and Sussex? You must have so many choices around the world.”

“We were looking in different areas outside the more trafficked places and read up on the Essex and Sussex. The location is wonderful and it’s close enough to New York. The photos do not do justice to the architecture.”

“The clientele are less likely to mob us for autographs, too,” added Ryan.

Karen gave a rehearsed fake laugh. “I’m sure. Let me show you the public rooms before I take you to the unit.”

“Of course.”

The brothers followed Karen as she took them to the grand lobby. “My mother was a big fan of yours and I grew up listening to your music. Oh, I am so sorry. You must get that all the time.”

“Not so much anymore,” Alan replied.

“It’s the true fanatics we want to stay away from,” Ryan added.

“Then you’ve chosen the right place.”

She then took them to the solarium, billiard room, and dining room. All the rooms were well appointed and in keeping with the history of the building. Alan said a few inanities to let Karen think he was paying attention when he was trying to picture how everything had looked 100 years ago. He caught Ryan shooting him dirty looks for some unknown reason.

Karen then took them to the piano lounge.

I can easily see myself spending time here,” Alan said. “Can’t resist a piano, me.”

“That billiard room looks rather inviting,” commented Ryan.

“Do you play, Mr. Kelly?”

“More pool than billiards.”

“I’m sure you’ll be able to find a friendly game.”

[You’ve never played a friendly game of pool] Alan sent his brother. There was something wrong. It didn’t _feel_ the same. The fact that Ryan didn’t send back a snide comment gave him added proof. But why? Cas! Maybe Cas got a few wires crossed when he was erasing their memories of what was to come.

He followed Karen and Ryan into the lift as they went up to the penthouse. Again, they went through the motions of looking at the unit, ooh-ing and ah-ing at the right moments. They didn’t have to pretend when it came to the view from the rooftop deck. The view was magnificent.

“This is just amazing,” Alan said. “I think we need to run a few numbers before we make a final decision.”

“Understandable,” Karen replied as she took them back to Reception.

Off to one side, Alan noticed some framed old photographs as well as other memorabilia. _That could be a good place to look._ They shook hands with Karen, who handed Ryan her card which included her mobile and email. The door opened and Dean and Sam entered in their FBI suits. That was their cue. “We’ll be in touch, Karen.”

They nodded to the Winchesters on the way out and walked to the car. Ryan called Sam and told him about the museum area. “Let’s get back to the hotel,” he said tersely.

“Sure.” Alan decided to wait until they were in the hotel room before opening the discussion about their abilities.


	4. The New Timer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Dean get pegged as "paranormal investigators".

Dean was just about to press the elevator button when Sam’s phone rang. He watched as Sam listened. “Yeah, thanks. That might be just what we need.” He ended the call.

“What?”

“Ryan said there’s a small area with photos and memorabilia from the early days of the hotel. Might be something there.”

“Worth checking out.” Dean looked around and spotted that sickeningly cheerful woman heading their way. 

“Gentlemen, can I help you today?”

“Yes, you can, Karen,” Dean said after a quick glance at her nametag. “Before we go upstairs, I was wondering if you have any special areas for the history of this building. My partner Starkey here is a major history geek.”

“Certainly.” Karen walked them down a narrow corridor that opened into a medium-sized room that contained artfully arranged display cases. Sam wandered off looking at other items as Dean gravitated towards a photo from the fateful summer of 1916. It was of some of the employees in their uniforms. According to the legend, top row, third from right was Charles Bruder. _He was a pretty good-looking kid._

“That’s a sad story.” Karen came up behind him. “He was killed by a shark just off the shore here, not long after that picture was taken.”

“What a violent way to go,” commented Sam as he joined them.

“I’ve heard a number of ghost stories about the place but I’ve never seen anything myself.”

Maybe they could get some information from her. “What kind of stories?” Dean asked. “Do they center around anywhere in particular?”

“Now that you mention it, yes. The third floor.” She put a hand to her mouth with a gasp. “Mr. Godwin.” She looked at them both as if studying them. “You’re not really FBI, are you?”

“Why would you say that, Karen?”

“Because the FBI wouldn’t take time from an investigation to check out 100 year old memorabilia or ask about ghost stories. You guys are paranormal investigators.”

Dean looked at Sam. No one had pegged them so quickly.

“Oh, my God, you are!” she practically squealed. “You guys are like _Ghostfacers_!”

Sam scoffed and Dean was insulted. “We are nothing like those hacks.”

“Hacks? But they’ve done so much. They teach people how to fight ghosts on their website. They even credit some other guys named Winchester about firing shotgun shells filled with salt. Isn’t that clever?”

Dean had always thought so.

“At least they give credit,” commented Sam.

“I know. I think they’re wonderful.”

Sam cleared his throat, not wanting to hear Karen’s hero worship of those idiots. “We’ll continue upstairs to carry on the investigation.”

“For appearances’ sake. I’ll be working late tonight so I can let you in. Will you need anything special?”

“No, we have our own stuff,” Dean said as he headed back down the hall.

“What about the residents?” questioned Sam. “Are there any events going on tonight that would keep them on the main floor late?”

“Not tonight. The majority of them retire upstairs by 10:00. You should be okay. Just give me a call as you pull up and I’ll open the door for you.”

They stopped at the elevator. “Thanks, Karen.”

She gave them a conspiratorial wink before heading back to Reception.

“Dude, you are not seriously thinking of letting her help,” said Sam as soon as the elevator door closed.

“She knows what we do, Sam. She lets us in and we tell her to make herself scarce.”

“I just hope she listens.”

They got off on the third floor and went through the Godwins’ place again to see if they missed something, anything that would tell them why Charles Bruder started killing and why he chose the Godwins.


	5. The Ties That Bind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The brothers share stories over beer.

In the hotel room, Ryan started arguing. “Why did you ignore me?”

“Is that why you’re in such a snit? I didn’t hear you.” Alan put a six-pack of beer in the small fridge. “I sent something to you as well and got no response. I think Castiel took a bit more than our future knowledge.”

“Why would he do something like that?”

“I don’t know. Maybe he was rushed. Maybe…”

“What?”

“When I was here before, I used my abilities against the demon when it should have been Sam.”

“I thought the point was _not_ to let Sam use his powers.”

“The point was not to have him drinking demon blood. Anyway, I think Cas wants Sam and Dean to do this without ‘extra’ help.”

“Then why are we here? You really aren’t making much sense.”

Alan sighed as he tried to make his brother understand. “Cas wants them to do it without any help beyond the human norm.”

“Just physical, gotcha. Makes sense. Would’ve been nice if he had said something.”

“You should remember from the books that he doesn’t always explain.”

They heard the Impala pull into the parking space. Ryan watched from the window as the Winchesters got out of the car. “They look so uncomfortable in suits.”

“When you’re used to wearing jeans, T-shirts, and flannels; a suit would definitely be confining.” Alan opened the door. “I bid you welcome,” he greeted in his best Lugosi.

“That’s not funny, dude.” Dean removed his tie.

“I thought it amusing.”

“A while back we went up against a shifter who wanted to be like the monsters in the movies.”

Dean looked at Sam. “Shut it.”

“He put Dean in lederhosen. He still has flashbacks.”

Alan thought it might have more to do with Dean’s time as a vampire instead.

“At least I didn’t get beat up by Gandhi.”

“Gandhi?” Alan needed to hear about that. “I don’t remember Gandhi.”

“I’ll tell you later,” Dean said with a look at Sam. “Gotta hit the head and then we’ll talk about tonight.” He grabbed a change of clothes and shut the door behind him.

“We’re doing this tonight?” asked Ryan. “You’ve found a relic?”

“There was a photo taken not long before the attack.”

“So you think part of his soul is captured in the photo?” Ryan questioned. “It’s a bit of a stretch.”

“It’s all we’ve got right now.”

Alan looked to the bathroom door before asking Sam, “How are you doing?”

“I’m fine.”

“Seriously? Dean’s in the bathroom. You can tell us.”

Sam hesitated. “Frustrated. I lost a year and apparently I was not the best of people. I want to make amends but if my memories of Hell come back I could end up a vegetable.”

Alan didn’t want to throw out a bunch of platitudes or play psychiatrist so he decided to use the one thing Sam wouldn’t argue. “I can’t say I can empathize or vaguely comprehend what you’re going through but you are with the only one who comes close. You were there for Dean. Let him be there for you.”

Sam nodded in thanks just as the bathroom door opened and Dean stepped out now dressed in his normal clothes. “Bathroom’s free, Sammy.”

Sam picked up his clothes and headed for the bathroom.

“Oh, you might want to keep the fan on,” Dean said as Sam passed him.

Sam scrunched up his face, but didn’t say anything as he shut the door.

Dean sat on the foot of his bed and looked at the two of them. “What can you tell me about Sam? OK, I know you can’t give me details and stuff but can you at least tell me he gets better?”

“We can’t,” Ryan told him.

“C’mon guys, this is my brother we’re talking about. You know what that’s like.”

Alan knew exactly what Dean meant. He would do anything for either of his brothers. He’d met the Winchesters saving Ryan from a curse. “It’s not that we won’t, Dean. We can’t. Castiel took away all our memories of what happens after this point.”

“He did what?”

“Most likely didn’t want you telling us about what’s coming,” said Sam as he re-entered the room. “Even by mistake.”

Ryan looked at Alan, questioning if they should tell them the rest. Alan felt Sam and Dean needed to know because of the hunt. “We think he may have gotten a little overzealous with the cleaning. We have no abilities.”

“Do you think it was on purpose?” Dean did not want to hear anything against the angel.

“I don’t know. It might be a side effect. No accusations made.”

“We just thought you ought to be made aware should your plan count on it in any fashion,” added Ryan.

“As we don’t have a plan yet, we won’t need to change anything,” said Sam.

“So we go in and burn a photo. That’s the plan. Easy.”

“It still feels…off,” stated Sam. “I still don’t understand why a peaceful spirit would suddenly do all this, unless…”

Sam pulled his duffle onto the bed and began digging through it until he pulled out a folder. Inside were printouts and handwritten pages. “There were a couple of attacks before the Godwins, right?”

“Yeah, one in May and another in July. Nothing fatal.”

“That’s what I thought.” Sam pointed at his notes. “Look at that.”

Dean reached over and took the paper. “Crap.”

“What?” asked Alan. “Care to fill in the civilians?”

“Since when are you a civilian?” Ryan asked him.

“We’re not Hunters so we’re civilians.”

“Eve was raised early in the year,” Sam supplied.

“Wait a sec,” interrupted Ryan. “I thought she was the mother of vamps, werewolves, shifters, et cetera. Why would a spirit be influenced by her?”

“No idea. Maybe to some degree she can influence all supernatural creatures just by being here.” He shrugged.

“Like gravitational pull,” remarked Alan. “Neptune, even though it’s the furthest planet out from the sun, is still influenced by the pull of the sun.”

“Leave it to the pilot to find a space analogy,” muttered Ryan.

“Whatever’s causing it, we still have to stop it,” said Alan. “If that’s your theory, how do we put it down?”

It was some time before they arrived at an answer.


	6. Open All Night

After a dinner at a restaurant – one the Kellys paid for – they drove to the Essex and Sussex. It was too early, there were people sitting on the porch. Dean turned down one of the cross streets and went north a block before heading back to the ocean.

“Where are you going?”

“We’re on the Jersey shore, Sammy. There’s got to be a dive somewhere around to kill time.”

“If you head north, you’ll reach Asbury Park and going south, you’ll reach Point Pleasant Beach. Those are the towns that really cater to the tourists with arcades, bars and the like. The towns in-between will have varying degrees of amusements.”

Dean looked at Alan via the rearview mirror. “When did you start quoting Foder’s?”

“Since I used Sam’s iPad to research the area. Hope you don’t mind.”

“As long as you didn’t kill the battery.”

“Left it charging.”

“At least you know how to take care of someone else’s property.”

Dean ignored the dig from Sam and turned on the radio, blasting _Born to Run_.

***

About two hours later, they returned to the condos. Dean pulled his baby into the back parking lot. Sam had called Karen and Dean could see her silhouetted against the open back door. The four of them got out of the Impala and split the supplies between them. At the door, Karen gave Alan and Ryan a curious look but said nothing.

“Our associates, Lennon and McCartney,” Dean said.

“The Beatles’ surnames. Cute.” Karen led them through the corridors. “I know who you are now,” she said. “I watched some _Ghostfacers_ this afternoon and in one episode, prominently displayed, was a photo of you two defaced with magic markers.”

“Yeah, so?”

“So from what I understand, the list is very short of whom they despise that strongly.” She stopped and looked at them. “You are the Winchesters.”

Dean felt the sudden need to strangle those idiotic douchebags. 

“You guys really know your stuff,” Karen was saying. “I trust you now that I have a better idea of who you are.” She looked at Alan and Ryan. “Though I don’t know who you are.”

“Extra hands,” answered Sam. “Backup. Are we clear?”

“Yes, everyone’s upstairs.”

“Good. Now you can go home,” Dean said.

“I’m not leaving the building while all this is going on,” she argued.

“Do you have an office here?” She nodded. “Okay. Lock yourself in and line all the entries with salt.” Dean reached into his bag for a canister.

“No need. I bought some of my own this afternoon.”

Dean was impressed. “Don’t come out until we get you, no matter what you hear.”

“Okay. Good luck.” She headed back to the main area.

“A fan of _Ghostfacers_ and she still takes all this seriously. That’s rare,” commented Alan.

“Yeah, those dumbasses would give Hunters a bad name – if people knew about us.”

“Thank God for small mercies,” Ryan remarked.

“Yeah, ‘cause he sure ain’t coming through on the big ones.”

Sam handed Alan his phone. “Set it on walkie-talkie.”

“We wait for your word, then torch it.”

Dean grinned. He liked a guy who showed enthusiasm for his work – as long as it didn’t get him killed. “Lay salt down and he shouldn’t be able to get in and stop you.”

“Right. We remember,” said Alan. “Go on.”

This kind of reminded Dean of having to depend on those two guys at that convention. At least these two knew the whole thing was real. “Okay, anything weird happens, you call.”

“Sir!” The twins saluted.

Dean shook his head before walking the corridor to Reception and the elevator.

“They’ll be fine.” Sam pressed the call button. “I’m more concerned about what excuse to use in case people see us entering the apartment.”

The doors slid open and they stepped inside. Dean pressed the button for the third floor. “We’re FBI, Sammy.”

“Yeah, FBI agents in civvies here at 11:00 with a large duffle bag. Something’s a little off.”

“Use that puppy-dog look of yours. Grannies can’t resist it. They may even try to pinch your cheeks.”

Dean reached forward to do just that, but Sam slapped his hand away. “Quit it.”

He sounded angry but he smiled. “C’mon, loosen up a little.”

“We gotta stay focused, Dean.”

“According to your plan, that’s the last thing you want.”

Sam only gave him the patented Bitch Face #3 as the doors slid open.


	7. Protection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alan and Ryan lay down salt lines in the museum room

Alan wandered around the small museum, appreciative that the architect set aside this space to remember the history of the building, the people who had lived and worked here.

“Now I can’t help but think that each of these items could have a spirit attached to it,” remarked Ryan.

“I think there are certain…requirements before they start haunting.”

“Should look into that.”

Alan knew that would probably be a good idea, especially with his collection of souvenirs. He did not want to think about what could happen should a spirit break free and haunt the Base. There were no “true” Hunters anymore, just wannabes. He smiled. _Maybe I’ll just have to bring in the real thing._

“Alan.”

He turned to look at Ryan, who was pointing up at the wall.

“Should we block the vents?”

Alan looked at the two air vents and swore. A disembodied spirit could pass through easily. “We’d better.” He went to the bag and pulled out another canister of salt. He tossed it at Ryan.

“Why me?”

“Your idea.” Alan squatted and let Ryan climb onto his shoulders. “Good call,” he grunted as he stood. “Make sure you cover the whole thing.”

“I will if you keep still. Maybe I should’ve been the one to do the lifting.”


	8. Spirit in the Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Dean confront the spirit of Charles Bruder

Dean aimed his shotgun at the door as Sam unlocked it and opened it slowly. Everything was as they had left it earlier. “’Kay, Sammy, do what you have to. I do not want to die as chum.”

“You think I want you to?” Sam pulled candles and herbs from the bag.

“You’ve done this before, right?”

“I told you yes, in Providence with the priest.”

“Right, the one who was targeting sinners and wanted you to kill for him.”

“But the summoning worked.”

“Will it bring the shark too?” He’d already died once as a chew toy and that was more than enough.

“If he’s the one controlling the shark, binding him should bind it.”

Dean tossed Sam his phone. “Open channel.”

Sam dialed his own phone. “Just setting up now. I’m putting you one speaker.”

“I’ve done the same here,” came Alan’s voice. “You _have_ done this before, right?”

Dean snickered at Sam’s face.

“Yes, I have,” Sam responded tersely. “I thought you read the books.”

They could hear Ryan in the background.

“Ah, okay. Ryan’s reminded me of the hunt.”

Sam set the phone on the floor and set up for the ritual. Dean watched as Sam spread out the cloth with the symbols already on it. Sam then put a bowl with fresh herbs in the center alternated black and white candles around the outside. At least they weren’t using a Spongebob placemat this time. He really hoped Sam’s plan would work. The summoning was only the first part.

Sam began. “ _Amate spiritus obscure te quaerimus…_ ”

Dean put himself on ultra-high alert as he felt a tingle in the air. No need for an EMF here.

“ _…te oramus nobiscum colloquere aput nos circita._ ” Sam dropped a pinch of frankincense onto the flame of one of the black candles where they exploded with a puff before the smoke trailed off.

Nothing happened but he still held his gun. After a couple of minutes, maybe not even that long, a wind picked up to near tornado force and Dean had to shield his eyes with his free hand. Sam stayed on the floor, head tucked into his chest.

When the wind died down, Dean lowered his hand. “Sammy, you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” He stood and both brothers got their first look at the spirit. 

It was clearly Charles Bruder as they had seen in the photograph. The fact that there was just wispy ether below the waist helped. The look on his face was more one of hurt than anger. “ _Wer sind Sie? Was haben Sie getan?_ ”

Dean looked at Sam. They hadn’t taken into account that the guy wouldn’t speak English.

“ _Sprechen Sie Englisch?_ ”

Of course Geek Boy did.

“Yes, I speak English. Why am I here?”

“You should know,” said Dean. “You’ve been attacking people in this hotel. The last one was in this room. He died.”

The spirit had the decency to look guilty but didn’t deny it. “I had no control,” he explained. “It was if I had to do it.” He seemed to struggle for words.

“You felt like someone was forcing you,” Sam supplied.

“Yes, that is it. I was made to do so against my will. Believe me, I did not want to hurt those people.”

Dean merely grunted. This was Sam’s show.

“Charles, it’s been almost 100 years, why haven’t you crossed over? What is holding you here?”

“Sam.”

“You can’t blame the people at the hotel. You knew there was a shark warning and you went out past the safety lines.”

The wind began to blow again. What was Sam doing, pissing off a spirit?

“Employees and guests took up a collection for your mother.”

At the mention of the mother, the wind hit gale strength. He heard distant voices and thought he was going deaf from the wind. He then saw the phone whip across the room and he made a grab for it, but it smashed into the wall.

“You said you were being forced to do those things!” Sam shouted above the wind. “She probably tells you that she’s your mother, but that’s not true! You aren’t one of her children, she has no power over you! You can let go of all this, Charles! You can go be with your real mother! She’s there waiting for you!”

The wind stilled and bits of debris floated to the floor. Dean lowered the arm that had been protecting his eyes and looked at the ghost. It almost seemed as if Charles was crying. Sam’s theory was working.

“I know you miss your mother,” Sam was saying. “I miss my mom too. That’s why Eve was able to make you do those things. So long without your mother, you wanted to please her. You don’t have to do that anymore. Just let go.”

“I’m afraid.”

A scared ghost. That was something new. “What are you afraid of?”

“That she’ll be mad I made her wait. That she won’t love me.”

“I did some stupid stuff as a kid and my mom would be mad but it never lasted long. A mother never stops loving her kids.” He recalled the spirit of their mom in Lawrence.

“I remember one time I was out playing where I shouldn’t. When Mother found out, she scolded me because I could have been hurt and then hugged me because I wasn’t.”

“Hold onto that feeling, that memory.”

A smiled crossed Charles’ face that was so serene it reminded Dean of paintings of saints. The aura around Charles glowed brighter and then broke into little separate bits of light before fading away.

“Wow, that was intense.” Dean looked at Sam. “Good job with the mother bit.”

“It made sense, taking Eve into account. She had to have some sort of hold on him.” Sam made sure the wicks were dead before picking up the candles and the mat.

Dean went over and picked up the remnants of the phone. “Right. Let’s meet up with the others and go.”


	9. Light of Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the clean-up comes the celebration

The twins heard what sounded like a maelstrom over the phone and then nothing. Dead air. Alan wished he hadn’t thought that. It was amazing how many seemingly innocent phrases took on sinister meanings once you knew what was out there.

“What should we do?” Ryan wanted to know. “Do we check on them or wait?”

Alan ended the call and stared at the phone. An idea came to him and he dialed. “Karen, what’s the Godwins’ number?”

“Don’t you have their cell?”

“No, the call ended and I want to make sure it’s just the phone.”

“OK.” Alan could hear clicking as she looked it up on the computer. “732-555-3880.”

“Great. Thanks.” Alan ended the call and quickly called the Godwins’ condo. “C’mon, c’mon.”

The phone was picked up. “City morgue. You stab ‘em, we slab ‘em.”

Alan sighed. “I thought you were the ones that did the killing.”

“Most of the time, yeah. You okay?”

“Yeah. You and Sam?”

“We’re good. Place is a mess. Lost another phone.”

“Hoped that was all that was. Ryan and I will pick up down here and meet you at the condo.”

“Right.” Dean hung up.

“Okay,” Alan told his brother, “time to clean up.”

They swept the salt and dumped it out the window. They then went to Karen‘s office to tell her it was done and she could head home. She refused until she knew what condition the condo was in. Alan had a feeling it would not be pretty.

In the lift, Karen looked like she was trying to build up the nerve to ask a question. Could she have realized who they really were? Those were pretty flimsy aliases. The question she asked was not what he expected.

“How long have you known the Winchesters?”

Ryan let out a little laugh and Alan glared at him. “I met them about two years ago. This guy met them earlier this year.” She didn’t need to know it had only been the night before.

They exited the lift and made their way down the hall to the condo. Ryan knocked on the door and Dean opened it quickly. Sam was picking debris and papers from the floor.

Karen looked around. “How am I going to explain this?”

“It just looks bad.” Sam stood. “Nothing’s broken.”

“Still. And how do I tell Mrs. Godwin that the man who killed her husband was caught but there won’t be any trial?”

“Say he was shot and the FBI put a gag order on the media,” Ryan volunteered.

Dean looked at him. “Good one.” He turned to Karen. “You should be able to sell it.”

****

They arrived back at the hotel and Ryan flopped onto the inside bed and yawned.

“I don’t know why you’re so tired,” remarked Dean. “You didn’t do anything.”

“Anxiety-filled waiting can be exhausting,” he responded.

Dean quirked his lips as a sign of agreement. “That was a bit of a letdown.”

“Not every hunt is for your adrenaline rush.” Sam put the duffle on the floor. 

“So, what do you do next?” Alan questioned as he leaned against the dresser.

“Under most circumstances, Dean would head to a bar and find a willing female for his after-hunt celebrations,” smirked Sam.

“Sounds familiar,” Ryan agreed.

Alan tried not to turn red at the attention, especially since it was in regard to his past “liasons”.

“Really?” asked Dean. “Never would’ve taken you for the type.” His voice was tinged with admiration.

“Yes, well, it was easy to play the pilot card coming back from a near-death mission.”

“The looks and uniform helped.”

Alan looked at his brother hoping the glare would convey his thoughts since telepathy was not an option at the moment. “It’s a good thing that Ryan and I stopped and got some beer earlier then.”

“Dude, that six-pack might be enough for me but I don’t know what you’d have.”

“Dean, c’mon, do you really think that’s all we’d buy? There are two cases in the trunk of the rental.”

“Oh, I knew there was a reason I liked you.”

The two sets of brothers toasted a job well done with their first beers and soon began swapping stories; nothing too emotional or angsty, that stuff was for family only. Sam was the first to fall asleep and Dean dismissed it with, “He’s always been a lightweight”. While Dean and Ryan continued to pound them back, Alan nursed his beers because one of them should remain sober. Close to 4:00, they both passed out. Alan made sure they were comfortable before stretching out himself on the bed next to his lightly-snoring brother. He lay on his back, arms behind his head, and stared at the ceiling.

He thought on the similarities between the four of them. He and Dean were the older brothers and had a way with the ladies – or at least he had. It was kind of hard now when he was a known entity, as it were. But he could also see some of himself in Sam as they both liked research and organization. Ryan was more like Dean than Sam. He was a fighter, schemer, and didn’t take any crap from anyone. What they all had in common was loyalty to each other. He smiled at the thought and dozed off.

Alan woke a couple of hours later and there was just a little sliver of light peeking through the crack between the curtains and wall. Knowing that there was no more sleep in his future, Alan slowly rolled off the bed trying not to disturb Ryan. He needn’t have worried. His brother merely snorted at the disturbance. He picked up his shoes and quietly slipped out of the room.

Across the car park was a small park area with tables and chairs so he made himself comfortable facing the sunrise. They were close enough to the shore to get the scent of the ocean. He took deep breaths as he tried to arrange his thoughts. There was something about this hunt that was nagging at him and he wanted to mull over it before mentioning it to the Winchesters.

“So this is where you went to.” 

Alan looked away from the pink-tinged sky and up at Sam. “Yeah. Couldn’t sleep. Figured this was a better view than the ceiling.”

“How late were they up drinking?” Sam sat in the other chair.

“4:00. It was actually kind of funny to watch. It was like they just stopped mid-sentence and slowly tipped over. Thankfully the bottles were empty.”

“Please tell me you took some blackmail pictures. Dean usually holds his liquor better making that a little difficult for me.”

“I didn’t think of it, sorry.”

They sat in companionable silence for a little bit before Sam’s stomach rumbled. “I think it’s time for breakfast. I hope we can find something.”

“It’s New Jersey, there’s always a diner open.”


	10. The Angel

Dean rolled over and groaned at his cottonmouth and headache. Damn hangover! The next thing he noticed was that Sam was already up or he wouldn’t have been able to stretch out like he had. He rolled off the bed, padded to the bathroom, and relieved himself with a sigh. As he washed his hands, he saw his reflection in the mirror and his eyes were almost as red as a crossroad demon’s. He splashed water on his face and walked back into the main room where he now noticed that Alan was gone as well.

Ryan was just waking up. “What time is it?”

Dean checked his watch. “7:30. They had better be getting breakfast.”

Ryan propped himself up on his elbows. “God, this place is a mess. How much did we drink last night?”

Dean checked the fridge and saw two bottles left. “Two cases.” He headed for the door. “I want to check something in the trunk. I’ll be back in a sec.”

Ryan waved a hand as he shuffled into the bathroom.

Dean opened the door and stopped short. The parking space where his baby should have been was empty. _He had better be treating her right on these crappy roads._ He turned back inside and dropped onto the bed. Why couldn’t Sam have taken the rental instead of the Impala? He just wanted an excuse to drive it, that’s why. He rubbed his tired eyes and stood with a frustrated groan. 

“What’s going on?” Ryan asked as he came out of the bathroom. “Do you know where the others are?”

“They took off in the Impala,” he ground out. “They just took her without asking.” He unwrapped one of the supposedly sanitized cups and filled it with water from the sink. “If they are getting food, they had better not spill one drop of coffee.” He drank the water quickly so he couldn’t taste it.

He then went to Sam’s bag and pulled out the laptop. He’d surf the ‘net and clog his browser history with anime in retaliation. That ought to cheer him up.

Dean was introducing Ryan to the wonders of anime when he heard the tell-tale sound of his car’s engine. He hurried to the door to rip Sam a new one. “Dude, what were you--” His tirade ended when he saw the look on Sam’s face through the windshield. Something was majorly wrong. Then he realized he couldn’t see Alan. He rushed over as Sam got out of the car. He took in the new bruises on his little brother’s face as well as the cuts on his arms. “What the hell happened, Sammy?”

“We were attacked at the diner.” He opened the back door and Dean saw Alan laying on the seat, bleeding gashes on his chest and stomach. “They knew we were here, Dean. They went straight for Alan.”

“Ryan, get out here!”

The other Kelly came running. “What is it?” He then saw his brother. “Holy crap! What the hell happened?”

“Let’s just get him inside and check his wounds first. Sam can tell us everything then.”

Ryan and Dean each put one of Alan’s arms around their shoulders and Sam took his legs as they carried him onto the room. Alan let out one moan as they initially moved him but then fell silent. The look on Ryan’s face was one terribly familiar to Dean. It was a combination of fear and anger with some hope thrown in.

They settled Alan on one of the beds and Ryan began to peel the clothes from his brother’s chest. Dean grabbed the first aid kit as Sam soaked towels in the bathroom. “What was it?”

Sam returned and handed a towel to Ryan. “Vamps. I guess they realized Alan wasn’t a Hunter and wouldn’t be able to fight back.” He used the other towel on himself.

“How did they know where you were?” Ryan asked. He had wiped away the blood showing four stripes cut diagonally into the flesh. 

“Has to be Eve. Maybe she can ‘connect’ with her children and saw us with Charles. Must’ve got some to head into town overnight.” Dean poured holy water over Alan’s chest and the man cried out but didn’t regain consciousness.

“And it wasn’t hard to figure out where we’d go for food. Probably staked out a couple of different places waiting for us to show up.”

“Why didn’t they go right for the throat?” Dean was curious. “Why make like Wolverine and slice him up?”

“Maybe the adrenaline makes it taste better,” remarked Ryan.

From the brief time he had been a vamp, Dean remembered the overwhelming need to feed. There was no time to play with food. All the others in the nest literally went straight for the jugular. He recalled how hard it was to fight it off. It could have been because they were all newly converted, he couldn’t be sure. “It’s possible,” he stated as he began sewing Alan’s wounds. “I think we should call Cas just in case, make sure they didn’t leave any nasty presents for us to find later.”

When he didn’t hear any response from Sam, Dean looked up to see a look that would translate to “oh crap” if there were such a dictionary. “Do you think that’s a good idea?”

“Yeah. He can heal him up and we’ll have another hand against the fangs. How did you get away?”

“Dragged Alan outside into the sun. I didn’t think they’d want to come outside after us. Also, I don’t think Eve wanted them to kill us. It could have been more like a warning, you know, that she knows how to find us if she wants to.” He wrapped a bandage around his wounded arm. “Cas has so much on his plate right now, I doubt he’ll come. Besides, it’s not really life-threatening, is it?”

Dean knew Sam and Cas didn’t always get along, and the angel only tolerated him for Dean’s sake. This, however, seemed different and he would get into it later, but right now he was going to call in some angelic assistance to help a friend. “Cas! We have a man down here!”

He heard the familiar flutter of wings and turned to see Cas standing at the foot of the bed. Ryan fell back in surprise. “What do you need, Dean?”

“Uh, man bleeding out here. I figured since you sent him here, the least you can do is fix him up the way he was.”

Cas peered down at Alan as if he were a stranger, an unknown entity. “Vampires,” he stated.

“How do you know?” Ryan asked as he regained his composure.

“They have a very distinctive…scent.”

“Man, we thought this was a simple salt ‘n’ burn that turned out to be anything but. Damn Eve. I don’t get her. At least with Crowley you knew where you stood. I almost miss the bastard.”

As Dean finished his little rant, Alan gasped deeply as he was now able to fully fill his lungs. His eyes bugged out and he seemed to stare at Cas in shock before falling asleep. “He will sleep most of the day,” the angel said.

“Good,” Sam remarked. “He said he didn’t get much sleep last night.”

Cas looked at Sam. “You are injured as well.” He made a step towards the younger Winchester who flinched before resigning himself to the angel’s healing touch. “I must return to my brothers. The war is at a crucial stage.”

“Thanks.” Castiel was already gone. Dean went over to check on Alan who was sleeping peacefully. “He’ll be out for awhile,” he told Ryan. “Best you can do is make him comfortable.” He then looked at Sam. “How’re you doing?”

“Fine.” Sam rubbed his arm where the bandage had been.

“Why’d you flinch when Cas reached out?”

“I didn’t flinch,” he responded defensively.

“Yes, you did. I know you and Cas never really got along but he was trying to help you.” Sam looked down. “You thought he was going to do something to your head,” Dean concluded. “What made you think that?”

“I was talking with Alan on the way to the diner and he brought up some good points regarding this case.”

“And those would be?”

“It was such a simple case so why did Cas send them here? And why did he block their powers when he erased their memories? You’ve got to admit these are good questions.”

“That’s all they are. There’s no proof that Cas has done anything on purpose. I can’t believe you’d take the word of a guy we’ve only met once before over an angel who’s helped us for years.”

“Do you have a better explanation?”

“Maybe he thought that Bruder’s connection to Eve would bring her around and we’d need the extra manpower. As for their powers, maybe be got a little carried away, used too much mojo.” Dean felt that Sam’s mistrust of Cas reflected back as a betrayal on him. “He’s helped us from the beginning, even going against Heaven at the risk of his own life. And now he takes time out from the war with Raphael to heal you.”

Ryan watched the argument like it was a damn tennis match.

“You’ve got to admit that he’s changed since this whole war thing started. He’s colder somehow, more distant – if that’s even possible – than when we first met him. It’s like we’re an afterthought, something he has to take care of so he can get back to business.”

Dean couldn’t believe this. It was like arguing about Dad all over again. Once Sam had something in his head, he refused to let go until he found an answer that satisfied him. “Of course he’s changed! He’s a general in Heaven’s civil war! That could change anybody.”

“Dean--”

“No, Sam, I don’t want to hear anything until you have concrete proof, not just paranoid speculation.” He grabbed the keys from the table where Sam dropped them and strode out the door, slamming it shut behind him. He got into the Impala and drove out of the parking lot and headed south past a number of strip malls and jug handle turns. He didn’t have a destination, but just being behind the wheel made him feel relaxed, made him think clearly. He took a few deep breaths at a red light. He’d keep going until he calmed down and would be able to face Sam without the overwhelming urge to punch him.


	11. We Take Care of Our Own

Alan climbed slowly from the pit of Morpheus, his hearing being the first sense to make him aware of his surroundings. Not that there was really much to hear, just simple, repetitive sounds; the clacking of a keyboard and the occasional rustle of paper. The second thing was touch. He was lying on something soft – a bed – and he wasn’t feeling any pain, which was quite unexpected after being attacked by vampires. _Real vampires!_

He remembered his chest being ripped open at the diner but there was no pain when there should be. He slowly opened his eyes and looked down at his shredded, blood-stained shirt. Judging by the size of those tears he should be dead. He then lifted his shirt to reveal a completely healed torso. As far as Alan knew there was only one explanation, they had called Castiel. Then it was there, everything in his head. He _remembered_!

He sat up in a rush and saw Ryan at the table tapping away on Sam’s laptop. Sam was sitting on the other bed looking through his dad’s journal with books spread out around him. There was no sign of Dean and it was getting dark. He had been out all day. _Crap, crap, crap!_

“Hey, you’re awake.” Sam put down the journal. “How’re you feeling?”

“Ridiculously well, considering.”

“So you remember what happened?” Ryan asked as he walked over.

“I remember _everything_.”

“Everything?”

[Yes, everything,] he communicated to the both of them. He saw Sam’s eyes widen and knew what he was going to ask. “And, no, I’m not going to tell you what happens.”

“But why? Surely Castiel wouldn’t have given your memories back at this point in the game,” remarked Ryan.

“You’re just pissed that he didn’t restore yours as well. Which is another reason to think this was a fluke, he didn’t mean to do it.” Alan stood and stretched. “Where’s Dean? He can’t be in the bathroom this whole time.”

“He, uh, took off.” Sam acted like he was tattling. “We were talking about Cas and I brought up our conversation and Dean went into complete denial. He refused to hear anything against him, reasoning everything away. He grabbed the keys to the Impala and left.”

“And we have no idea where.”

“He won’t answer my calls and I really don’t know where he’d go.”

Ryan took a deep breath. “OK, we may not know exactly where he’s gone but we can guess from previous…instances what kind of place he might go to.”

The three looked at each other. “Bar!”

“Even though the season is nearly over, there still are way too many bars for us to check each one.” Ryan looked at his brother. “Can’t you just ‘pop in’ on him?”

“And cause an accident if he’s driving?”

“Or I could just track his GPS.” 

Sam dialed the phone company, told them he had lost his phone and gave yet another false name. When he ended the call, he went to the laptop and pulled up the coordinates. Dean was still in Belmar and not moving. 

“OK, I guess I’ll take the car and go get him,” stated Ryan.

“Why you?”

“Because I’m the only one he’s not mad at.” Ryan took the keys from the bureau.

“No, we all go,” said Sam. “He needs to know that Alan’s all right and that I’m not going to back away from what I said and forget it. If you guys just go, he’ll think I’m chicken.” Sam slipped on his jacket.

“After all you guys have been through, he’d still say you were afraid to face him?” Ryan questioned.

Sam directed a look at him that said “duh”. “He will always pull out the older brother or Big Bad Dean Winchester card when it serves him. I’m starting to become immune.”

“OK, then.” Alan looked at them both. “Let’s go. I could use a drink.”


	12. Girls in Their Summer Clothes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean, bar, girls in skimpy clothes.

The first bar Dean found when he finally stopped driving was a local dive away from the ocean and the tourists – called Bennies by some, the bartender told him. As he nursed his beer, he couldn’t help the betrayal he felt from Sam. Questioning Cas was questioning him. The angel had turned on Heaven and the rest of his kind to side with them. He had chosen humanity and free will. That should be enough to put him above suspicion.

And why was he believing what Alan said? They had only met him the one time and, yeah, he did save their lives and help prevent a seal from opening but he wasn’t family. And saying Cas took away their “powers” on purpose was not the best way to get in his good graces either. There was no way Cas would bring them here to help and then take away their major strength.

He was getting way too introspective. It was time to change things up. He paid his tab and got into the Impala. He took a moment to stroke the wheel. She was his one constant. She would never leave or betray him. She had even come back from the dead for him. Dean chuckled at the thought. _Guess that makes you a true Winchester._ He shook off the depressing thoughts and checked his watch. “Got a few hours before Sam comes lookin’ so I’d better make the best of it.”

He drove back towards the ocean and soon found the bar he was looking for. There was loud music pouring out as well as lots of beach babes. He parked the Impala and strode inside like a man claiming his kingdom.

****

After two hours, Dean had his own coterie of followers and was drunk enough to sing along with Bon Jovi and not care but sober enough to remember the words. One of the girls, a busty blonde on his right, stopped as she spotted something by the entrance. “Ooo, hello, salty goodness,” she practically purred.

Dean would only apply that phrase to a plate of fries so he had no idea she was using it to describe a guy – or, rather, three guys. “Wonderful,” he muttered.

Sam was the first to spot him and Dean could see the relief as he relaxed. His brother then tapped the Kellys on the shoulder and pointed in Dean’s direction. Dean nodded and they started over.

“Oh, they’re coming this way,” said Charisma – or was it Karma?

“Hello? Right here,” said Colin. “No need to drool over new guys.”

Colin was fun but the dude would never be able to compete with Sam who still had that bashful quality working for him. Alan and Ryan, even though older than the majority in the bar, still were turning heads and not just females’.

“Dean.” Sam was the first to reach the table.

“Guys.” He listed his beer in greeting.

“You know them?” This from the red-head – Paris, Rome, some European city.

“Yeah. My brother Sam and friends Ryan and Alan Kelly. Guys, this is Colin, Drew, Kyle, Eden…Charisma and…” He tried to remember. “Geneva.”

Sam nodded politely to everyone before looking earnestly at Dean. “About earlier, I’m sorry. We shouldn’t have argued like that.”

Dean really did not want to get into things here. Sam really did seem sorry for the argument, if not the reason for it. And he felt relaxed enough about it to be able to discuss it rationally once they got back to the hotel. He sighed. “Yeah, me too. Too bad we didn’t get a chance to talk before…Alan got hurt,” he finished lamely.

 _I blame the vampires,_ he heard Alan’s voice in his head. He looked over at the man in question with a raised eyebrow.

“You don’t look hurt,” said Eden.

“Bruised ribs,” he said for their benefit.

“Yeah, those can be painful,” added Ryan. “We wanted to make sure that they guys who attacked Alan weren’t coming after Dean.”

Dean realized that they had come believing the vamps were still in the area. “You really think they’re still around?”

“Not sure. We just wanted to make sure you were okay.” Sam looked at the girls. “I guess you are.”

“You have people after you?” asked Charisma. “Oh, wow.”

Dean realized that the fact he could be beaten up was actually turning her on. Part of him wanted to preen and use the fact to get into her pants. He also realized that it would not be good if vamps came into this bar looking for him.

“I can’t have them trash this place when they come looking for me,” he said, acting all noble. “We’re gonna have to cut out and keep them away.”

“They’re really that dangerous?” questioned Colin.

“Real bad news,” Sam stated. “They think they’re invincible.”

“Crap.” The guys all took a step back.

“So, guess I’ll be going now.” He picked up his jacket and grinned at the girls as they waved at him.

Once outside he put on his jacket and put a hand in his pocket for the keys. His fingers hit paper and he pulled out six cocktail napkins with phone numbers. “Damn, I’m good.”

Alan laughed at the face Sam made. “C’mon, he gives off that bad boy vibe like pheromones. And now, with the chance of him being beat up, they’ll want the chance to nurse him.”

“Believe me, he knows.” Ryan couldn’t resist the jab at his brother.

Dean pulled out the keys and tossed them to Sam.

“You want me to drive?”

“Sam, I’ve been drinking for like three hours. I do not want to risk my baby.”

Instead of walking to the Impala, he went to the passenger seat of the rental. He was not ready to be in an enclosed space with his brother without a referee. Through the windshield he saw Alan and Ryan have a silent conversation and wondered if they were doing their telepathic thing. Alan then came around, got behind the wheel, and started the car before Dean had a chance to get out.

“I know you don’t want to talk to me but I want to clear the air. I was having questions, doubts, as to why Castiel sent us here and removed our…talents. The memories I get but that had me puzzled. I talked to Sam because he doesn’t have a ‘profound bond’ with the angel in question. It was just speculation and I shouldn’t have said anything without something more concrete.”

“Damn right, you shouldn’t have.” He sighed. “Was this before…” He put his hand to his head and waggled his fingers.

“Yeah. I lay awake after you guys passed out and thought about things. I went outside to watch the sunrise. Sam joined me and we talked.” He took advantage of the red light and looked at Dean. “You know the rest.”

Dean looked at the older man and really wanted to hate the guy but knew he was just acting out of concern. Dean wasn’t used to that outside of Sam, Bobby and Cas. And even then he wasn’t always comfortable with it. “I’m guessing you got your memory back too.”

“Yeah, I did. I think when he healed me,” he said, answering Dean’s next question. “And no, I can’t tell you.”

“You sure you’re not reading my mind?”

“Nope. It was just the logical progression of questioning.” He pulled into the space by the hotel room door. “I know you won’t believe until you see it for yourself so we’ll drop the topic. Just be careful with who you trust,” he added as Dean reached for the handle.

“And what about you?”

“Hell, I’m completely trustworthy.” He grinned and Dean couldn’t help a small smile himself as he got out of the car.


	13. Glory Days

Alan stepped out of the car just as Sam pulled the Impala into the next spot. He and Ryan were smiling, probably sharing older brother stories that hadn’t come out the night before.

Sam got out and tossed the keys to Dean. “We good?”

“For now. Just don’t keep harping on it and we’ll stay that way.” He started for the bathroom.

“’Harping’. Good one.” Ryan grinned.

The Winchesters glared at him and Dean shut the bathroom door behind him.

“Ryan, zip.”

“What?”

[ _Humor like that now is not wise._ ]

Ryan rolled his eyes and dropped onto the foot of Dean’s bed.

“So, how does this end?” Sam ran a hand through his hair.

“Sam.”

The younger Winchester looked to Ryan. “He’s the one with the memories, not me, and he’s not sharing.”

“Yeah, I know about that. Must be an older brother thing, shouldering the burden themselves.”

“Or it could be because this particular younger brother doesn’t always know when to keep his mouth shut.”

Dean emerged from the bathroom. “How’re we gonna handle the vamps?”

Alan shared a look with Ryan and Sam before turning to Dean. “We don’t know where they are. We don’t even know if they’re around.”

“You guys lied to me.” There was controlled fury in his voice.

As he was already on Dean’s bad list, Alan took the full brunt of the blame. “It wasn’t a lie, not really. I woke up, saw it was dark, you weren’t there and I panicked. With the chance of them still being around and you possibly inebriated, we thought it best to bring you back.”

“Did that have anything to do with your memory returning?”

“Guess not, since I was wrong.”

“Do we have to stay in here all night?” whined Ryan. “There’s got to be somewhere we can go.”

“If we stick together, we should be okay, right?” Sam looked at each in turn.

“Then why did you pull me from the bar? I was so in there!”

“Which one?” questioned Sam.

“Doesn’t matter.” He flopped onto one of the chairs. “I’m with Ryan on this. I do not want to spend a night cooped up in this room with you guys.”

Alan didn’t particularly like the idea either, especially with the risk of another temper flare-up. “I guess we could hit the boardwalk somewhere. At least we’d be out in the open should anything happen.”

“I could go for some greasy deep-fried food.” Dean rubbed his hands in anticipation.

“You can always go for greasy deep-fried food.”

Alan watched the banter (or bickering, depending who you asked) and suffered a bittersweet moment that only he knew. The Winchesters would not have many more light moments like this. It wouldn’t be long before Dean learned the truth about Castiel, and then shortly after that the angel would remove Sam’s wall, bringing on the hallucinations. Then there were the Leviathans.

They walked out to the Impala debating if they should go south to Point Pleasant or north to Asbury Park. Dean wanted Asbury Park because of the Stone Pony but changed his mind when Sam told him there were no games.

They drove south along the ocean until they had to cut across to a main highway. As it was late in the season, parking was easy to find. They crossed the street to the boardwalk so Dean could get his greasy fried food: fries, corn dogs, onion blossoms, funnel cakes and deep-fried Twinkies. Alan picked at a few things as they walked along checking out the booths and arcade games.

Alan smiled at the discomfort of the man running the shooting game as Sam and Dean took turns hitting every target. It was during Ryan’s turn that Alan saw a familiar figure off to the side by one of the souvenir shops. Making sure the others were still occupied, he slipped away.

“Alan Kelly.”

“Castiel.” He couldn’t call him Cas. He wasn’t a Winchester. “I remember.”

“Then you know why I am doing this.”

“And I also know what will happen.” _It’s weird, knowing more than an angel._

“My intentions--”

“Your intentions, no matter how good or noble, won’t mean a thing to Dean.” Alan followed the angel’s gaze as it settled on Dean stuffing his face with a giant soft pretzel. “I won’t say anything. That’s up to you.” He turned to walk away and heard the rustle of feathers. _Yeah, it’s kinda hard to walk out of an argument with an angel._

“Hey, where did you go?” asked Ryan as he reached them. “I told them you could beat this thing blindfolded.”

“With one hand,” added Sam.

“Over your shoulder,” finished Dean.

“Where would be the sport?”

“So, where did you go?” asked Sam.

“I saw something at one of the booths and went to take a look while you were playing marksmen.”

“And?” prompted Dean.

“It wasn’t what I thought it was.”


	14. Meeting Across the River

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel and Crowley hold a "business" meeting

Castiel looked on the demon with disdain. He hated teaming with the creature but in order to accomplish his plans it was necessary. “Sam is becoming suspicious.”

“So you arrange a play date for Moose and Squirrel with guys from the future? What were you thinking, you idiotic birdbrain?”

“It was a distraction. While they are with the Kelly brothers they are not pursuing this line of inquiry.”

“The vampires would have been a decent distraction and they would have gone after Eve. Or you could’ve healed that guy and they could have gone after the vamps.” He stopped when he saw the angel’s face. “Fine, you don’t want them hurt. Dean was well on his way to a painless enjoyable evening. Those girls were certainly interested. He could’ve lost himself for a few hours, easy.”

“You were aware of his movements?”

“I have a few spies in the area.”

“Crowley, I did not want him to lose himself in alcohol and meaningless sex,” Castiel told the self-proclaimed King of Hell. “I wanted them to be themselves, to forget hunting for a few hours.”

“To forget about you while hanging out with their new friends you mean.”

“Yes.” Castiel did not like keeping Dean in the dark but he knew his friend would want to stop him.

“Then why did you go talk with one of them?” Crowley asked with – for him – controlled anger.

“You have been watching me.”

“When it comes to you and the Winchesters, hell yeah. Don’t avoid the question.”

“Col. Kelly remembered. I believe it happened when I healed him from the vampire attack.” Castiel saw Crowley flinch ever so slightly. “You were responsible.”

“As I said, I thought it was a good idea. I made sure they knew not to hurt your pets…too much. So what about Future Man? Did he talk?”

“No, he said it was my place to inform Dean.”

“What’s to stop him from telling anyway?”

“He is a good man. He will not go back on his word.” Crowley looked at Castiel as if he were looking at a gullible child. Castiel knew that he was right in having faith in the soldier. He heard Dean calling to him. “It is time. They are ready to leave.” He would not hear of any more secret spies or plans for which he gave no approval.

“Fine. Go keep up appearances.”

“We will talk more later.” Castiel left the demon to his devices.


	15. Rocky Ground

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is it. Thanks to everyone who read this.
> 
> The title and chapter titles are all songs by Bruce Springsteen staying with the New Jersey theme.
> 
> The Essex and Sussex is a real hotel/condo on the beach in Spring Lake, NJ. Charles Bruder was one of 5 people attacked by a shark that summer. Documentaries usually air during Discovery Channel's "Shark Week" http://dsc.discovery.com/tv-shows/shark-week/videos/blood-in-the-water-bloody-ocean-swim.htm

Dean found a classic rock station out of New York and they sang along on the drive back, even Sam. Dean hadn’t felt this relaxed and, well, happy in ages. He knew it wouldn’t last. Tomorrow he and Sam would be back on the road to try and stop Eve.

He wasn't ready to call it a night. “It's not that late. We could still probably catch a show at the Stone Pony.”

Alan and Ryan seemed onboard with the idea but it was Sam who shot it down. “We have to be on the road tomorrow morning and I do not want to deal with your hungover ass.”

“Fine, but we're going next time we're in Jersey.” Dean pulled into the hotel parking lot.

They clambered out of the Impala and strode into the hotel room. Dean flopped onto his bed and stared at the ceiling for a few seconds, luxuriating in the rare feeling of contentment. “Guess we’d better call Cas so he can send you home,” he said reluctantly as he sat up.

“Yeah, I guess.” Sam didn’t want this camaraderie to end either. “Oh, Alan, I got one for you: Uncle Ben.”

“Why are you talking about rice?”

“What? Dude, no. We were talking about quotes. _Spiderman_?”

“So you were quoting movies? Sounds geeky to me.”

“Not just movies. Books, songs…” Dean just looked at him and Sam’s argument died on his lips.

“Hey, Cas! Got two passengers for Angel Airways!” He had barely finished and Cas was there. Thankfully remembering personal space.

“You are ready to leave?”

“Yeah. The longer we stay, the better the chance that we’ll screw things up,” responded Ryan.

“Intended or otherwise,” added Alan.

Dean didn’t miss the look Alan aimed at Cas. It really, really bugged him that Alan had it in for Cas. He was an _angel_ for Chrissakes! History could be wrong. He looked over as Sam said goodbye with firm handshakes and manly slaps on the back. Sam would probably call Bobby as soon as he could manage time away. He had his doubts and knew Dean wasn’t going to be “receptive” so he’d turn to someone who would listen.

Next thing he knew, Ryan was there pumping his hand. “Dean, an honor to meet you. And I don’t think I said it before but thank you for saving my life.”

“Uh, yeah. No worries. I know what he was going through.”

“Yeah, you’d do anything for those pesky little brothers,” commented Alan.

“Minutes younger,” Ryan argued.

Alan ignored him. “Are we good?” 

Dean didn’t have to think. “Yeah, we are.” He shook the proffered hand. After all, Alan didn’t know Cas like he did, didn’t have the faith – for lack of a better word – in the angel that he did. 

“Right, then, we’re ready.” 

Cas raised a hand to both men’s forehead and Alan had time for one more quote. “Sam, Lord Acton.”

Sam kept looking at the spot where the three had been, a pensive look on his face. It wasn’t one of those looks that would send him looking for the information, it was one that said he had the info but had to figure out what to do with it. 

“You okay, man?” Dean asked.

“Yeah, just wondering how we’re thought of in the future, you know?”

“Heroes, going by the way they reacted to seeing us.” He headed for the bathroom. He closed the door and listened for the tell-tale sound of the outside door opening and closing. He’d have about ten minutes while Sam called Bobby. Dean left the bathroom and went straight for the laptop. The quote “game” Sam talked about, that was when he and Alan talked about Cas. The quote from Spiderman was a gimme: “With great power comes great responsibility”. It would be safe to say that Alan’s counter-quote would also have to do with power. He typed “Lord Acton quotes” into the search engine and each link told him the same thing. It seemed that Alan was blaming circumstances and choices, not Cas himself. And the quote wasn’t that far off, considering what happened with Sam when he started tapping into his abilities. Okay, a big chunk of it was Ruby but it wouldn’t have worked if Sam hadn’t wanted it. He sighed and fell back against the chair.

That’s how Sam found him when he walked in. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, um, I just looked up Lord Acton.”

“Oh.” Sam just sat on the bed, not saying anything, though it was plain on his face that he wanted to.

“I know you and Bobby have your suspicions about Cas and I _refuse_ to think anything like that until I see it myself. I don’t want to hear anything more about it unless you have absolute, concrete proof, _capisce_?”

Sam nodded and Dean felt better. He stated his own position while letting Sam know he was aware of his. And if he did find out that Cas was doing something…un-Cas, he’d talk him out of it, prove Alan’s history books wrong. That’s what you do for family.

_“Power tends to corrupt and absolute power corrupts absolutely.”  
Lord Acton_


End file.
